


These tiny snippets

by Maegfen



Category: Miss Scarlet and the Duke (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, Mini fics, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maegfen/pseuds/Maegfen
Summary: A series of unconnected prompt fills for Eliza and William.
Relationships: Eliza Scarlet/ William 'The Duke' Wellington
Comments: 56
Kudos: 188





	1. Smile

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt fill for the wonderful Sel over on the Eliza & William discord - I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> This chapter's prompt was 'smile.'

It’s a familiar situation for them both, this back and forth between them; William sitting in his chair at his desk and Eliza pacing ( _always pacing_ ) as she talks and occasionally rambles about her position on the case, her work rate, her contribution to the arrest of one of London’s up and coming criminals. He has been trying to convey the importance of his own work in the case (somewhat halfheartedly, he can admit, she has him beaten in this instance, and William well knows it.)

It’s been going on for near on half an hour. 

William knows he could have ended it fifteen minutes ago, but something, _something_ , has caused him to poke and jibe and allow Eliza and himself to go round and round in circles. 

Eventually he knows that their argument will soon step over the boundary of friendly but contentious, to outward hostility, so William sighs somewhat dramatically and draws it to a close. 

“No, no, you’re right,” he finally concedes, slumping back into his chair and grabbing his scotch as he moves. He takes a drink and watches Eliza carefully over the rim of the glass.

“Sorry?”

She looks somewhat awestruck at his admission, moving to sit in the chair opposite the desk. Her hands come to rest in her lap, eyes watching him warily as if expecting him to begin the argument anew. 

“You were right Eliza,” William reiterates, gesturing at her with his glass, trying to pretend this ‘argument’ hasn’t been leading here for the last twenty minutes. “You found the evidence, interpreted it correctly and _that_ led to the arrest, not my own investigation, which, I have to admit, resulted in a bit of a wild goose chase. It is indeed because of you that Lyons is in custody. I’ll be sure to inform Superintendent Edwards of your valuable contribution to this case.”

Eliza pauses for a second and tilts her head at him, clearly trying to process his words. 

Then, suddenly, she _beams_ at him. 

There’s something about the way they argue that occasionally does nothing but infuriate him; it’s a frustration, the constant bickering and fighting, the two of them often repeating themselves with no other purpose than to drive the other to insanity. But there’s also something underneath it all, something that never fails to cheer him up when Eliza’s proven right, or even when he wins an argument but concedes her point; her smile.

William doesn’t mind losing, or even letting his ego take a hit if it causes her to beam at him like that. The flutter in his stomach tells him that he should probably consider why.

Regardless, William acknowledges to himself, he’ll do pretty much anything just to see her smile. 


	2. I trust you. Always.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prompt fill for the very lovely bygone-age over on the Eliza & William discord - I hope you all enjoy reading this :)
> 
> This chapter's prompt was the phrase "I trust you. Always."

There’s not much time to think, not with at least 3 armed men following them, William’s gun out of ammunition, and a case that has pulled them from pillar to post for the whole time they’ve been investigating it. 

Eliza wonders how long it will take them for Paulson’s men to find them; they’d beaten a hasty retreat out of the bar, but there was something about the determination of the men that worries her. Probably worries William too, judging by the way he keeps glancing back into the mouth of the alleyway they’ve ducked into.  
  
She can hear the wolf whistles and the low droning chatter of this part of town, but she knows they will stand out in the crowd if they emerge too early. Paulson might not be the smartest tool in the shed, but his men have been successfully manipulating the black market for weeks; they’re no fools.

She spots one of Paulson’s men who’d been chasing them rush past the entrance of the alleyway. She thinks she and William are out of sight, but she can’t be sure. She panics a little as the man seems to linger at the entrance, his head turning towards the far end that she and William have retreated to; he must be able to see their shadows, even in the dimly lit area between the pub and what is clearly a brothel.

“William,” she whispers, the word sounding loud in the silence that had been between them.

His only answer is a low hum of acknowledgement, his eyes darting to the man who is lingering in their peripheral vision, almost as if he wants to wander closer, but is wary of what he may find. 

“William, do you trust me.”

She reaches out, touches his arm to draw his attention away from the man that seems more and more intent on finding them in their hiding space.

“Yes Eliza, I trust you. Always.”

There’s a hint of sarcasm behind his words, a slight roll of his eyes that she can make out in the darkness. But underneath she senses the words are true, knows because of his actions around her, knows in his change of attitude to her work, to _her_ in recent months. Eliza takes a breath, glances once more down the alley at the man slowly making his way towards them, makes a decision…

She kisses him.

She leans in, lips gently touching his before instinct takes over and she tries to deepen the embrace. William gladly obliges, turning her slightly so her back is against the wall behind them. She feels the brickwork pull on the fabric of her dress but she pays it no mind, focuses on the feel of William in front of her rather than the uncomfortable hardness of the wall.

The kiss seems to go on for an eternity, their breaths quiet in the dark, but suddenly Eliza hears a soft moan. She's unsure if it came from herself or William, finds she cannot find the time to _care_ as one of William's hands sweeps from her arm to her waist.

There’s a low chuckle from somewhere, and Eliza only notices that it’s their pursuer after William has dug his other hand gently into her hair and nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. She sighs, grabs his sleeve tightly before pulling away.

Even in the dim light she can see the confusion in his eyes, the momentary realisation of where they actually are, of what they’d done.

The silence lingers. Eliza touches at her hair, pretends she doesn’t miss the warmth of his hand or the taste of whiskey on her lips. William coughs and tries to straighten his tie where Eliza had unintentionally grabbed it at some point to pull him closer. 

“What was that about? Not that I’m arguing mind...”

“A distraction,” she states, as if it’s obvious.

“Really?”

“Yes. That man was clearly following us, and now he isn’t.”

William makes as if to argue a point, or ask for a further explanation.

Eliza, as she so frequently does, interrupts him.

“Never mind about all that now, let’s just get on shall we? We seem to have lost our pursuers, so Paulson’s warehouse should be clear to investigate.”

With that, she wanders off down the alleyway, not even glancing behind her to check if he’s following. She knows that he is, knows that he probably always will.


	3. No one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eliza misinterprets things, William is oblivious and many problems would be solved if people learned to have a conversation or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another wonderful prompt from bygone-age over on the Eliza x William discord - sorry for the delay but I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This chapter's prompt was the phrase: "There is no one I'd rather be with than you."

It had been a strange time really, the last few weeks - her father’s murderer found, dinner with William, the hint of being on the verge of something _more_ and then... nothing. One evening she and William had been celebrating and dining at one of London’s finest restaurants and then… it had stopped. It had certainly thrown Eliza for a loop, as had her apparent dismissal from William’s life completely by the man himself.

There had been hints from both of them of a wish to move on, press forward into an actual relationship, but William had suddenly toned down his advances, and stepped back from the flirting and playful tone he had begun to adopt.  
  
It was puzzling.  
  
Eliza had tried to talk to him about the situation, but William had become more standoffish than usual, had refused to see her at the station and had begged off every time she had been round for a social call. In fact, in the five weeks since their last conversation, she had seen him precisely twice, and both of those had been as he’d dismissed her from Scotland Yard when he’d claimed he’d been working a case.

 _It surely wasn’t through fear of the unknown_ , Eliza wondered as she puttered around in her office waiting for a client; they were good friends after all, knew each other’s darkest secrets and greatest faults, but there was _something_ that was holding William back from pursuing her.

It all made sense a week later, in the early summer, when she opened the door to William’s office after she had received a brief letter that morning asking for her presence at Scotland Yard. There was no mention of a case, so hopefully William was using a quiet opportunity to see her.

“Eliza, good morning! Thank you for coming.” His smile was brief, but Eliza realised how dreadfully she had missed it. “This is Madeline Gardner,” William stated, gesturing towards the young woman who was sitting opposite him. The other woman stood up as Eliza entered the room, reaching out a hand so that Eliza could take it. 

“I can come back later William,” Eliza said, glancing from the woman back to her friend. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine Miss Scarlet. I asked William if I might meet you.” Madeline Gardner was softly spoken, and Eliza immediately had the impression that she was kind and courteous. “I’ve heard a great deal about you from dear William over the past few weeks.”

Eliza turned to William, an eyebrow raised in question. He smiled back at her, a tiny hint of embarrassment on his face, as if he’d been caught out in a lie he wasn’t even aware he was telling.

“Miss Gardner, _Madeline_ , is a nurse from the London Hospital. She’s here relating to a case I have been working the last several weeks, but have been... unable to solve. I called you here to see if you could offer your assistance with the case? It would help myself and Miss Gardner immensely.”

So not a social call, not a bid to renew their flagging friendship, but he needed her to help solve a case for, she presumed, his new beau, judging by the way the young lady smiled at him, and William returned the gesture.

Eliza nodded, ignored the feeling of something breaking inside her, and motioned for William to explain the case and how she could help. 

* * *

A new, unfamiliar pattern began to emerge over the next week or so. Eliza would arrive at Scotland Yard every morning, ready to resume work on the case, bringing with her any pertinent information she had managed to gather in her off hours, and every morning William would be seated in his office, whiskey in hand and smile on his face, deep in conversation with Madeline Gardner. 

It was enough to drive Eliza to distraction. 

Her irritation, Eliza thought, would be justified if Madeline was a suspect in the fraud they were investigating, or if her personality left something to be desired, but she was _nice_. A perfectly pleasant young woman who made William smile and laugh with more frequency than Eliza supposed she herself did. 

William had given her the occasional concerned look, had tried to engage her in a quiet conversation or two, but for the most part he focused on the case, communicated their findings to Madeline and barely made time to ask after Eliza whenever she was in the office. 

The pattern continued on and on, and with each passing day Eliza felt her heart break a little more at the realisation that soon William would be wed, would be married to the lovely Miss Gardner, would leave her life, would likely never return.   
  
  


* * *

The rain hit William’s office window, nearly drowning out the soft tapping Eliza made as she leafed through the file with one hand and drummed her fingers on the desk with the other. 

She and William were, for once, alone in his office. Madeline was escorting her mother shopping that morning, and the other officers on the case were conducting searches of the local pubs and brothels for the last few pieces of evidence they needed to charge their suspect. 

“Are you okay?”

William’s voice made Eliza start, and she glanced up at him. He was peering at her with confusion. 

“I’m fine William, just trying to ensure that all the details of the arrest are in order.”

He sighed and gestured towards the pile of files between them. 

“Eliza, you have been quiet for more than half an hour. You are a quicker reader than I and yet I am on my fourth file and you remain on your first. There is clearly something bothering you.”

She rolled her eyes and flipped the file closed. 

“It’s nothing William. It’s just…” Eliza sighed, aware of how foolish her reasoning would sound. “I almost wish that this case would not end.”

William stared at her blankly, as if she had said something truly mad. Eliza supposed she probably had.

“Why ever would you wish that? This case has been the bane of your existence for more than a month; I cannot believe you wish to linger on this at the expense of other more interesting clients and cases.”

“Because,” Eliza stated, looking up at him and trying not to sound as silly as she felt, “when this case is over I fear that our friendship will be too.”

William stood immediately from his chair and moved to her side, perching himself on the edge of his desk.

“Have I done something to offend you? Had one of the officers been inappropriate? If they have, don’t hold it against me; tell me who he is and I shall…”

He paused when Eliza placed her hand on his arm to calm him. 

“William, do you honestly believe that our friendship can continue after we have concluded our business here? People probably already believed we were on the verge of scandal before this case, and I won’t have people viewing me as a mistress…”

“What on Earth are you _talking_ about Eliza?”

“Your relationship with Madeline, William! I will not compromise your happiness or anyone’s reputation.”

“What relationship?!”

Eliza sighed in frustration, eyeing the man before her wearily. Why did he have to be so… so… obtuse? She did not need to be lied to for the sake of her sanity; she had accepted William’s budding relationship with Madeline quietly and courteously and with no comment nor complaint.

“You don’t have to hide the truth from me William. It’s very apparent that you are either in a relationship with Madeline or, at the very least, on the verge of one. She is constantly here, she makes you smile and laugh, and I have not seen you so happy for a long time.”

William looked… bewildered. He reached a hand up to scrub over his face, then moved it to scratch at the back of his neck — a sure sign of both his confusion and annoyance. (Eliza had seen it often enough after all…)

“Eliza,” William started, before he sighed and looked at her intently, “if your criteria for me being in a relationship with a woman is her ability to make me smile and laugh and wish to spend all my time with her then we have apparently been married for _years_.”

“But Madeline…”

He rested his hand on her chin, the warmth of his fingers spreading across her face. 

“Eliza, you have it all wrong. I have no intention of… courting… Miss Gardner. In fact, she is waiting to become engaged to a nice young gentlemen from the East side of the city I believe. But her father’s…” William paused and sighed as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Madeline is a _friend_ , that is all. Her father is irritating and overbearing but incredibly… _influential_ within Scotland Yard and the higher ups put priority on the case. I’ve been short staffed since Frank and...” he paused, then grimaced. “I’ve been ignoring you haven’t I?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

Eliza let out the breath she was holding, relieved at the knowledge that William wasn’t seeking a relationship with Miss Gardner. She shook her head at William, reaching out a hand to touch his arm again when she did so. She stopped short of resting it on his sleeve though, not wanting to draw attention to her sudden nerves. She noted that William followed the movement of her arm as it dropped to her side once more. 

“I didn’t... I didn’t want to presume anything about our... relationship. I mean, a single dinner between friends doesn’t necessarily mean anything and I thought you’d moved onto Miss Gardner because, well... you’re you.” she finished somewhat lamely, her ramble slowly petering out until it was nothing more than a whisper.

“Are you insinuating something about my reputation again Eliza?”

William raised his eyebrow in question, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

“No. Not really, just...”

Eliza shrugged, unable to find a suitable comment or form of distraction that might defer attention from the ludicrous situation she had found herself in.

“Trust me Eliza, I am truly sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” 

The words landed like a gut punch; there was the truth of the matter. He’d _never_ intended to pursue her, had _never_ intended for them to become something… _more_. Eliza felt like a fool, her cheeks growing warm at having made herself out to be nothing more than the silly woman so many people had informed her she was.

She was surprised then, when William reached out and carefully took her hand, rubbing his thumb across the back as he peered at her. He pulled her up gently, so she was standing before him. Eliza had never felt so small.  
  
She began to hang her head, but William quickly rested a finger from his free hand under her chin to lift it, causing Eliza to gaze right into William’s eyes. There was a spark of amusement there, something she hadn’t seen, she realised, in any of the occasions that she had witnessed William in Miss Gardner’s presence. Instead, that look was focused solely on her. 

“There is nobody I would rather be with than you Eliza. I’m sorry that I’ve ignored you these last several weeks, it’s....I’m sorry.”

Silence hung in the room. Eliza took a breath. A second. William continued to rub her hand and gaze at her, his brow furrowed in quiet, contemplative confusion.

“Oh.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“I just… oh I’m so foolish.”

William smiled but did not comment. When she noticed, Eliza swatted him gently on the arm.

“William! You are supposed to refute my claims!”

“You are absolutely correct Eliza, I am. When your claims are not correct.”

She huffed, but grinned none the less, moving to rest her head on his chest. Eliza felt his lips press against the crown of her head, causing her smile to broaden.

“I feel we need some lunch,” William murmured into her hair. “The case can wait an hour or so, and I think we probably have some things — a lot of things — to discuss.”

Eliza’s grinned widened, and, before she lost her nerve, she reached up on her toes and placed a quick kiss on William’s lips. His beard tickled and his hand clenched hers tightly as she pulled away as quickly as she had approached. 

“Yes William,” she said, entwining their fingers more firmly and laughing as the man before her smiled widely, “I think there are plenty of conversations we need to have; I look forward to them all.”


	4. I think of you and worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which William is injured and Eliza contemplates just what that means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, another prompt! This one comes from JLC on AO3 - hope you like it!
> 
> This chapter's prompt was "Eliza finding out William has been injured on an investigation that, for once, has nothing to do with her? Making Eliza contemplate the real danger of William’s job..."

The entrance of Scotland Yard was unusually quiet as Eliza pushed open the door, her arms full of various files, papers and evidence from her latest case. 

She needed help, and William was, of course, the only person she currently trusted to be able to assist her. His connections and experience had proved valuable to her in the eight months her agency had been open for business. 

There were a few constables wandering around the corridors, solemn looks on their faces ( _which wasn’t unusual_ , Eliza thought, _they dealt with the worst of the worst every day after all._ ) She headed towards the front desk, lining up quietly behind a fraught woman looking for her son and a rather pungent drunken man decrying the fact that an officer had taken away his mostly empty bottle of whiskey. 

Eventually, the people in front of her were seen to and Eliza approached the desk, smiling warmly at the man behind it; she and PC Honeychurch still did not see eye to eye on some matters, but since the death of Stirling and her part in the arrest of Frank, he had warmed a little to her; often offering her tea, biscuits and a seat if William was ever busy when she arrived for an appointment. 

Honeychurch was concentrating on the form in front of him, his hand moving swiftly across the page as he filled in the details of the drunken man he’d just sent away. It seemed to Eliza that he was particularly distracted that morning, and when he looked up at her, she noticed his eyes were red, with heavy bags under them as dark as bruises.

“Late night PC Honeychurch?” Eliza jested, fully aware of the notoriety Scotland Yard had when it came to late night drinking and early morning shifts.

Honeychurch, however, looked startled at her appearance before him, as if he expected her to be somewhere else.

“Miss Scarlet!” he exclaimed, dropping the pen he was writing with and giving her his undivided attention. “I… I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

“Don’t be ridiculous Honeychurch, my frequent presence here is surely no longer a surprise to you? Now, is William free? I find I need his help in a case of mine.”

Honeychurch furrowed his brow, confusion spreading across his face as he regarded her. Eliza felt immediately that something was wrong, that there was something important that she was missing.

“You… you don’t know,” Honeychurch eventually said, beckoning Eliza to follow him to a quieter part of the station, leaving a young wiry looking PC in charge of the front desk in his stead.

“Don’t know what? PC Honeychurch, what on earth is going on? Where is William? Surely he’s not still out drinking?" She sighed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "He _knew_ I was coming in today — if he is still at The Farriers I cannot state how utterly irritated I will be.”

Honeychurch shook his head, looking lost and determined all at once. 

“Inspector Wellington’s at the hospital Miss; he was stabbed last night when leading the raid. Nurses reckon he’ll survive but…”

The rest of Honeychurch’s words were drowned out by Eliza’s internal panic, a rush of fear and adrenaline rushing through her body as the words sunk in. _William had been stabbed_ …stabbed!

She took a deep breath and looked up at Honeychurch, shocked to see a sympathetic look cross his face. Instinctively, Eliza pulled her files and papers closer to her chest, as if to set up a shield to protect herself from the terrible news she was still struggling to process. 

“Which hospital?”

“King’s…it was the closest one to the raids and they didn’t have time to move him…”

Eliza nodded, panicked once more. Honeychurch peered at her carefully, then nodded at the door of the station. 

“I’ll get you a carriage right away Miss. I’d asked Constable Grant to send a message to you last night, but clearly he didn’t.” Honeychurch looked irritated at the unseen officer. Eliza wondered if he’d be having words as soon as she left.

“Thank you PC Honeychurch. I just hope William’s alright.” She handed him the papers, and he took them without hesitation; she knew the constable well enough that he'd place them in William's office for when they were needed. 

The carriage ride was almost unbearable - thoughts of William flooded her mind; he could have _died_ the previous evening and she would have never known until long after the fact, never been aware that he’d gone until she’d grown too worried and investigated herself — just like when her father had been taken from her. If she hadn't pre-arranged the meeting this morning...

The carriage steered its way through the back streets of the city. Eliza would normally have been eagerly looking out into the streets, taking in as much information about the buildings, the people, the atmosphere as she could. Instead, she found herself deep in thought. Not for the first time she was considering William’s job and the implications of it. 

It had really never dawned on her just how dangerous William’s job actually was. Yes, there had been several instances where she, and by extension William, had been in danger, but somehow, _somehow_ , both of them had come out of those times with either of them receiving nary but a scratch or two (him) or some stern words (her).

But when Eliza _wasn’t_ around? When William wasn’t needed for her own work, or she wasn’t involved in one of his cases? Well it seemed that all cards were off the table and anything could happen. How many times, Eliza pondered, as King’s hospital came slowly into view, had William been injured while on duty? How many times had she not been privy to hospital stays or near misses or investigations that had nearly taken his life. Did they leave him feeling as shaken to the core as she felt now?

The carriage pulled to a halt, the cabbie encouraging the horse to slow to a standstill before he jumped down to help Eliza out. She paid him swiftly and sent him on his way; she did not envisage leaving William’s ward for a while. 

There was no real issue getting in to see him. A swift white lie about her association to the patient ( _He’s my betrothed, I need to see him, please, please, please…_ ) and she was whisked to his side by a dutiful but sympathetic nurse. Eliza tried to ignore the smell of blood and vomit that drifted down the halls; it would do her no good to think over how dirty and disease filled most hospitals seemed to be. She wondered, briefly, if it would be possible for William to convalesce at her own home, as soon as he was fit to be moved.

The man himself was awake when Eliza arrived at his room, her escort greeting him and then departing quickly, citing other patients. William nodded at the departing nurse, an eyebrow raised at Eliza the only reaction to the caregivers announcement that his fiance was there to see him. Eliza smiled sheepishly, but moved to his side regardless, taking in his condition. 

He was sitting up in the bed, a heavy duty blanket covering him from the waist down. His torso was mainly bare, although a swathe of bandages covered his lower torso, a hint of red seeping through the pale fabric. Eliza’s eyes widened in concern, but before she could comment, William spoke.

“The doctor is returning shortly; he’s gone to fetch some fresh bandages and some more medicine before looking over the wound again.”

“Oh William,” Eliza started, sitting in the chair next to him and reaching out for his hand, “ how are you?”

He raised his eyebrow at her once more, before gesturing to the bandages.

“I’m in hospital with a serious injury Eliza, how do you think I am?”

The chuckle that accompanied his words was enough to let her know that he understood the sentiment. Eliza let out a small sigh of relief before looking him over. 

“What _happened_ William? Honeychurch only told me you’d been injured, _stabbed_ for goodness sake, in a raid last night, and that you’d been whisked here because you were close to death!”

Eliza was aware that she sounded fraught, but the idea of losing him was often too much to bear at the best of times, but to lose him to something like _this_ , when she couldn’t help him, when she wasn’t even _aware_ of where his duties had led him? It was overwhelming.  
  
She lowered her head, feeling ridiculous, because William wasn’t dead, was still breathing and was _safe._ Eliza took in a shuddering breath, trying to hide her panic, and she decided then that she’d do everything in her power to prevent him from succumbing to blood poisoning or infection or consumption or any number of the secondary illnesses she _knew_ could occur as a result of his injury.

She looked up when she felt fingers wrapping around her own.

“I was called in late by Chief Marlowe to assist with the Irish lads in the raid on the docks. Nothing major, or so we presumed. They were markedly better armed than we’d anticipated. I got this,” he said gesturing to the bandage once more, “as I was arresting a suspect. His brother was less than impressed at my handcuffing his younger sibling and decided to take a swipe at me with a fishing knife.”

Eliza looked horrified.

“It’s a hazard of the job Eliza,” he muttered, gripping her fingers a little tighter and she _knew_ that, understood it more than most because of her father’s past in the force, but it still _terrified_ her.  
  
It had terrified her when she’d been 14 and her father had been caught by a stray bullet on a stakeout and Ivy had had to bring her to St Paul’s in the early hours of the morning because she hadn’t been able to stop crying. And it terrified her now because she knew she could no more ask William to give up his work and find something less hazardous to do than she could her father when he’d come home from the hospital wrapped in bandages but _safe_ and _alive_ and _home_.

But she couldn’t articulate all of that to William, not now, not when his blood was still steadily seeping through the white of his bandages, and not when she didn’t really have a say over what he did and did not do with his life. They may have tentatively been at the start of something new and exciting but she had no more authority over his safety than William did himself.

“I know.”

Her eventual reply was quiet but seemed to settle both herself and William. They sat in silence for a while, until the doctor came around and started to change William’s bandages. Eliza made to leave, but William shook his head, inviting her to stay if she wished, but allowing her to leave if that proved to be her desire.

The wound was not as bad as she’d believed it would be, although the red, raw skin around the injury made her head rush with worry again. Nevertheless, the doctor seemed pleased with the progress of its healing, and was satisfied that William would make a full recovery — the blade had missed his gut; striking only muscle. It would be a while before he was fully fit for duty, but the knowledge that he would be back behind a desk within the foreseeable future was enough to satisfy both William and Eliza. 

The two of them sat in contemplative silence as the medicine began to take its effect; William slowly started to doze off as a result, Eliza at his side and her hand still in his. Eliza knew that they would have to have a discussion at some point; their relationship, or potential for one, was too important not to, but there would be time for that.

All she knew now was that William was safe, _alive_ and healing, slow though the process may prove to be. Accepting the risks of his job would take time, but, Eliza knew, it would be worth it. William always was. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> If you have a prompt; feel free to send it my way and I'll see what I can do.
> 
> Title of the fic comes from a quote by Colleen Hoover: "I want these tiny snippets of perfection between us to be our constant reality." Mainly chosen because it sounded cool!
> 
> Comments and Kudos make my day :)


End file.
